As Long As You Love Me Part 8

"I don't remember," he confessed, gesturing toward the dash. "It's on my phone somewhere."

Taking that as an invitation, I picked it up and was amused to see it had no pa.s.sword protection. I'd bet anything Avery used to scroll through this, making sure he had no dirty secrets. I went to the information screen and memorized the number, then added him as a contact in my list. Afterward, I sent a quick text.

There, now you can call me.

"Problem solved," I said. "I hope you drunk-dial me. I can only imagine how much fun that would be."

He slid me a smile lightly spiced with wickedness. "That's not my style."

"What is?" Any more, and I might literally hyperventilate. This pencil skirt was going straight to the top of my favorite outfit list.

"I guess you have to wait and see."

"Now that's just cruel," I mumbled. "I thought you were a nice guy, Rob."

"n.o.body's good all the way to the bone. You know that." He angled the truck back through Sharon, but instead of heading for my place, he turned toward the small downtown.

"Where are we going?"

"You look too pretty for us to go straight home." His voice was matter-of-fact, and that made me appreciate the compliment even more. "I thought I'd buy you lunch, unless that's not okay for some reason?"

Come to think of it, I'd been too nervous about the interview for breakfast, and it was past two. "No plans, except for helping this guy fix up his house later."

"Does that loser ever take you anywhere nice? Or is it work, work, work, all the time?"

"We'll see," I said with what I hoped was a mysterious smile. "And he's not a loser."

To my astonishment, he parked at the Grove, the sw.a.n.kiest place in town. The restaurant was situated at the back of a wooded drive, hence the name. Like twenty years ago, the owners bought an old Victorian and restored it completely. Downstairs, it was gorgeous-I knew girls who went there before prom-and upstairs, there were six bedrooms available for romantic weekends. Apparently the place did fairly well, despite the obscure location.

As usual, Rob was in jeans and flannel, but I doubted they'd say anything during lunch. If they did, I didn't want to eat here anyway. The hostess proved me right with a broad smile, leading us to a corner table nestled in front of the windows, where we had a beautiful view of the wintry garden-very postcard picturesque with the trees iced over and snow piled up.

"Have you been here before?" Rob asked.

I shook my head. "To be honest, I didn't date much before I went away to school."

Realization spilled over me like hot coffee. s.h.i.+t. Now he thinks I think this is a date. Is this a date? Should it be, so soon after his breakup? Sweat broke out between my shoulder blades, and I feared taking off my jacket. Between the white blouse and the job interview, I was probably a puddle of perspiration swaddled in librarian clothes.

It occurred to me that being his rebound girl might not be the best idea, but I couldn't bring myself to object. There are exceptions to every rule, right? And part of me felt like it would be better to get a few weeks with Rob than nothing at all.

No reason to freak out. It's just lunch.

"Too picky for the local talent?" he guessed.

I laughed. "Sure, let's say that."

Before he could ask, the waiter came over to fill our water gla.s.ses and deliver menus. There was no possible way I could've been more relieved. I took refuge behind my menu, trying to decide what to order. The Grove did food like mushroom risotto, grilled salmon, fried quail, beef tartare, chicken confit and potato gnocchi. To start, they had cheese-and-fruit plates, ceviche and chickpea hummus, along with various soups and salads. There were no prices listed, which made me nervous, especially since I'd just helped Rob make a budget. Yet my eyes still went straight to the dessert menu, where I proceeded to salivate over b.u.t.terscotch caramel pudding, salted dark chocolate fudge and honey pistachio cake.

"Do you know what you're having?"

"I think so. You?"

He nodded, lifting a hand for the waiter with a confidence that was both surprising and hot. "We're ready to order. The lady first, please."

"The squash soup to start, followed by the shrimp and grits."

"Anything to drink?"

"Just water, thanks." While Rob wouldn't thank me for thinking of his wallet, I figured this should deduct three or four bucks from the bill.

"And for you, sir?"

"I'll have the warm vegetable salad and the smoked pork tenderloin. Water for me, too."

The waiter used an iPad to tap in our food choices. "I'm sending this to the kitchen right now. While you wait, I'll bring you some homemade bread and herbed b.u.t.ter."

"That sounds incredible. Am I drooling?" I wiped the corner of my mouth, only half pretending. "I was too uptight to eat anything this morning."

"Is that normal?" He didn't sound like he was judging me, only curious.

"Before I meet new people or go into some new situation? Unfortunately, yeah. Before I learned better coping mechanisms, I used to throw up a lot. Not eating is preferable."

"I'd say so."

"Once I survive the ordeal, I eat everything in sight. I call this relief feasting. I also suspect the skipping of meals and then eating like a Roman senator is why I can't shake the extra weight." Not that I was trying, honestly. Fiddling with my laptop, eating whatever was easiest and avoiding workouts didn't exactly qualify as healthy. That said, the renovations at Rob's house were definitely making me stronger.

"Huh?"

Oh, c.r.a.p. Now he probably thinks I'm fis.h.i.+ng for a compliment. There was no way this would sound anything but clumsy. "I need to lose about twenty pounds."

Okay, thirty, if you listen to certain stupid weight charts.

"In what world?" He scowled openly, dark brows drawn together. "You'd lose all the oomph and most of your bam."

A giggle slipped out before I could stop it. I hadn't made that noise since I was thirteen and Rob offered me a ride home. "Tell me, is the oomph up front or is that the bam?"

He grinned, the broadest smile I'd ever seen from him. Oh, my G.o.d, he has a dimple. "It's your body. By now, you should know all about your oomph and bam. I shouldn't have to explain these things to you."

Green light means go. Time to flirt like I mean it.

"Then I guess I'll have to go home and practice in the mirror until I work it out."

His eyes blazed like there was light s.h.i.+ning behind him, but the waiter came back with a bread basket and tiny crocks of b.u.t.ter. Too bad, I wanted to hear how he'd have replied. He had himself under control by the time the guy walked away, but there was a new focus to his gaze, and the intensity of it sent a s.h.i.+ver through me.

For a few seconds, the table was silent except for his drumming fingers, m.u.f.fled by the fine linen. "I have to ask...are you winding me up? Because I'm here, you need an ego boost, you're lonely or-"

"No," I cut in. "I wouldn't do that to anyone, but definitely never to you."

"You say that like I'm special."

I have to tell him. The thought nearly sent me straight into a panic attack.

When I was eleven, Nadia and I went to the Y to swim. That first time, she was fearless, immediately running toward the high dive despite the clearly posted No Running sign. I followed slower, weighed down by my ruffled floral bathing suit, earplugs, nose plugs, goggles, both our towels and a book, in case I wanted to take a break. She went up the ladder like a shot and just launched into s.p.a.ce. The summer was nearly over before I got the courage to climb, and I was never a good swimmer. Too much uncertainty, bobbing bodies, unbreathable water.

I still remembered the terror screaming through my veins while everyone shouted for me to jump. On the way down, I nearly peed myself, and I didn't dive so much as fall. The water stung like a b.i.t.c.h as I went under, and Nadia had to drag me out of the deep end. I cried in a snotty ball for ten minutes afterward.

Until now, that was the worst fear I ever knew. My throat tried to swell shut, but I spoke through it, and my voice came out weird. "To me, you always have been."

"Don't get mad at me, okay? But I have to ask."

"What?" Now I was really worried.

"Is it possible you're kind of...fixated on me? Because of your dad, and what happened when we went to see him? Transference, whatever. This might not be healthy."

The rage surprised me. If I'd had a gla.s.s of wine, I'd have thrown it at him, old-school-movie style. Water just didn't have the same impact, plus he was my ride home. While grinding my teeth, I counted to a hundred. I was whispering fifty when Rob realized how upset I was.

"Lauren-"

The starters arrived. I stared at my soup until I could speak without freaking out. "Nadia says I have daddy issues, yeah. And I'm sure she thinks that's funny. It's not so funny to me because she still has her dad. He's always been around. Always. He'd never let either one of you guys down." Tears p.r.i.c.kled in my eyes, but I refused to give in. "How many of your games did he miss when you were playing?"

"None," he said quietly. "Not ever."

"Exactly. Yeah, you saw me during a weak moment, but I don't equate you with my father. You're four years older than me, not twenty. I suspect you just don't think much of yourself, so you can't figure out what I'd see in you. And I'm kind of done saying that you're awesome because it p.i.s.ses me off when you don't believe me. So let me make one thing superclear.... I have never, never-not once-thought of you as an older brother. In my head, you're the dream guy who'd never look twice at me, even if I was dancing naked on the table."

His blue eyes smoldered like the heart of a flame, as if he was picturing it. When he spoke, his voice was rough and deep. "Three things. First, if you're ever dancing naked on a table, I better be the only other person in the room. Second, please don't stop being sweet to me. I'm just starting to think maybe some of it might be true, and I'm not ready to lose that. Third, and this is the important bit, so listen up-if I'd known your crush survived getting to know me, I'd have broken up with Avery weeks ago. See...I've wanted you since you were eighteen and I probably shouldn't have been checking you out."

"Wait. W-wait. What?" Incoherent, yep. He'd given me absolutely no sign. Emotionally, s.e.xually, he had been like the Mojave. "When?"

"Eat your soup before it gets cold. I'll tell you more later."

"Are you kidding? No. You can't drop that on me and then-"

"Sure I can. Otherwise I'll take you home after lunch and we won't talk again until tomorrow." He smirked.

"That's blackmail. I'm starting to think you're kind of evil."

"I can live with that."

With a frustrated snarl, I ate my soup. Then the b.a.s.t.a.r.d made me chew through a delicious plate of shrimp and grits while we talked innocently about stuff we planned to do later in terms of home renovation, like I wasn't seething. Rob appeared to be enjoying it, too. I'd never known he could be such a s.a.d.i.s.t. Did this mean he'd want to tie me up and paddle me?

Hope not. Given his worries about my daddy issues, that might get weird.

I was eating salted dark chocolate fudge with a tiny fork when he said, "So you want to hear the story?"

"Most definitely."

"Let me set the stage. You were just turning eighteen, still in high school. Which makes me a perv, I'm aware."

I shook my head. "It doesn't count since you didn't hit on me."

"I try not to be creepy, it's one of my life goals."

"So far, you're succeeding. Fudge?"

He took the bite from my fork, and I couldn't help but recall all of the manga I'd read, where girls went crazy over the indirect kiss. Deliberately I licked the fork when I brought it back to my mouth, and he seemed to forget to speak. It took a full minute of him watching me eat before he resumed the narrative.

"You and Nadia were in her room, getting ready for some party. I could hear you upstairs, laughing, but back then, we never hung out."

"Yeah, Nadia was very much 'your world, my world, let's not cross dimensions.'"

Rob nodded. "I was watching TV with my dad when you came down wearing a red dress and suddenly, you were all oomph and bam."

"I remember that dress. Still have it, I think."

"That night, I couldn't take my eyes off you. It sucked when I realized you were headed out to hook up with some high school a.s.sholes."

"There was no joy in Mudville for me that night. Nadia got drunk and locked herself in the bathroom because her dips.h.i.+t boyfriend was making out with somebody else in the garage."

"If I'd known, I'd have beat the s.h.i.+t out of him."

I smiled to take the sting out of my reply. "That's why we didn't confide in you more."

"Anyway, that's it, not much of a story, huh? Before, you were the sweet kid who hung around the house and stared at me a lot."

"And after?"

"Honestly?"

"Please." Fixing my gaze on his face, I watched the sheepish smile widen.

"I wondered what you looked like naked. A lot. Felt like a deviant, too. Because there's a certain kind of guy who's attracted to high school girls in his twenties, and I definitely didn't want to be one of those. But I'd still think about asking you out and then remember you were my sister's friend, and how awkward would that be, plus you were still in school, and I knew you wouldn't be sticking around past graduation." He hesitated, as if I might yell at him again for what came next. "And I knew you were too smart to be drawn in by physical stuff or the fact that I played football, so I figured-"

"It was best not to make a move."

Rob nodded. "At the time, it was the only play I could make."

"Or not make," I murmured. "You never let on at all. I never guessed."

"Yeah, well. I learned early on not to show people how they're making me feel. Otherwise I'd always be the dumb kid crying in a corner."

"You're not like that with me anymore," I realized aloud.

"I trust you," he said softly.

I melted around a mouthful of fudge. At his gesture, I fed him another bite of the shared dessert, imagined what it would taste like on his lips. Hot, sweet, slightly bitter, sharp with salt, rich as sin. In the not-too-distant future, I might be kissing Robert Clayton Conrad. Back in the day, I wrote his full name on my notebooks a lot, always on the inside, where Nadia wouldn't find it and tease me.

This should make him laugh, plus it would show I trusted him, too. "You know, I always thought you had a kingly name. I have a folder on my computer devoted to your fantasy adventures, like three hundred thousand words, all terrible."

Finally, I'd succeeded in startling the ever imperturbable Rob. "What?"